To Watch the Stoic Squirm
by The Atomic Cafe
Summary: Stella's been ignoring Mac, Mac's been pressing questions too hard, and both of them refuse to admit defeat.


**To Watch the Stoic Squirm**

**By Dimgwrthien**

_Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates._

Heels clacked against the tiled floor of the hallway. Stella brushed up close to Sheldon, who held a folder and his silver-colored kit. He glanced up at her, smiling.

"Hey, Stella. Got back from a crime scene." He held up the folder. "Waiting for results on DNA. Got a few blood samples." From the kit, Sheldon picked up a small stack of tapes with frozen fingerprints trapped inside. "And fingerprints."

"Looks like you'll be going home early." Stella looked at the stack - at least ten of them - and grinned. "Have you seen Lindsay?"

Sheldon twisted his head, looking around the halls. "Not yet. Last time I saw her was yesterday. Helped me with another crime scene. Not as many fingerprints."

"I think you hit the jackpot." Stella clapped him on the shoulder. "If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her."

Sheldon pointed over Stella's shoulder. "Don't need to. Here she is."

Lindsay walked up to them, brown eyes searching their faces, a smile on her face. Her arms were full with brown bags with a red evidence tape around the tops. "Hey."

"Oh, good." Stella pulled out a slip of paper from the book in her arms. "I have some papers from Nick in Ballistics for you."

Lindsay motioned to the bags with her chin. "I don't have any hands. Can you give it to Mac? He's on the case, too. Or else Danny. Sorry." One of the bags started to fall, and Sheldon pushed it back into her hands before it fell. "Thanks."

"Where's Danny?" Stella asked.

Lindsay motioned at the direction she had come from. "Somewhere over there. Talking to a cop for the case. They've been talking for a while now. I think Danny's about to ask him out on a date." She grinned.

"Go give it to Mac," Sheldon suggested, holding the fingerprint tapes by the red edges and repeatedly hitting the plastic against the side of his hand.

Stella glanced at Mac's office, noticing he wasn't inside. "Not there."

"That's because he's standing right there." Lindsay pointed to Stella's right, where Mac stood next to one of the toxicologists. "And he's just finished talking."

Stella gave them a tight smile and left. Mac glanced up from a freshly-printed paper as she approached. "What's that?" he asked when Stella stuck the paper out under his nose.

"Results for you."

Mac took them, glancing at the titles on the page, before he realized that Stella was already leaving. He watched her for a few steps. "Stella."

She didn't turn, but she stopped.

"What case are you on?"

"Lynn case." She didn't hear a response from Mac, so she recited the basic information she had to pass around all day. "Woman found behind a café on nineteenth with white residue lining her throat. No sign of a struggle. Found against a tree." As she spoke, she turned back to him, meeting his gaze slowly.

"Interesting case. What've you found?"

Stella shook her head and looked for words. "Nothing yet. No response from toxicology."

"And you realize we're standing right in toxicology?"

"Yes."

"And you realize that you're finally talking to me?"

"Ye-" Stella broke off, looking around. The hall seemed too crowded, and she felt nervous. "Mac. Can we talk after work?"

Mac glanced at his watch, then around. "I'm only waiting on Danny. I think he's planning to bribe that officer into building a time machine to go back to the crime. I should stop him. I'll be done within two hours."

"I'll be at Sullivan's, then." Stella turned and left the hallway as soon as possible.

As six o'clock rolled closer, Stella put down the papers on her case, trying to take her mind away from the answers and reasons. She grabbed her coat, throwing it over one arm instead of putting it on, then leaving the building into the burning sunlight.

By half past six, Stella sat at a booth inside of the bar, quietly drinking a beer while the people around her talked and laughed and yelled and fought. She glanced up every so often, wanting and yet not wanting Mac to walk in. He walked in through the door, glancing around the bar and the tables until he found Stella. He gave her a shy smile, then walked over and sat opposite her.

"What's bothering you?" he asked her in a low voice.

Stella pushed her beer bottle toward him, but Mac shook his head. "You."

Mac said nothing, but looked at her, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Remember last week?" Stella glanced up at him, her hands clutching the bottle tightly so that her knuckles turned white. "You were asking about dinner and… Well. It's just been annoying me."

"It was a week ago, Stella. I think an offer expires after a week." He gave her a small smile that faded when she didn't smile back. "Why's it bothering you?"

"We work together," she explained, twisting her fingers slightly around the bottle. "I've known you for years and… it sounded a bit like a date." Stella shut her eyes, touching her forehead to the moist rim of the bottle. "Oh, damn it. I sound like a high schooler."

"You don't." Stella listened to him quietly, not looking at him. He remained silent for an uncomfortably long time where Stella could only think about how stupid she was for jumping around to conclusions and having avoided Mac for the entire week. "You're being smart. I'm jumping too fast. It was just an offer."

His voice sounded slightly edgy with a hint of his native Chicago accent starting to peek through his words. The vowels stressed out more, the consonants fought for control. Stella peeked up at him, seeing the offended look on his face.

"Just an offer," she repeated quietly to herself.

"Yes." His voice was still a bit snappy. "You rejected it, so I didn't press anything."

"You still offered." Stella lifted her head quickly, glaring at him. She hated it whenever that accent peaked out because of the times he always used it - only to yell or stress his point. It was a beautiful way to hear his voice, but she couldn't enjoy it under the circumstances. "Damn it, Mac! You still offered and you know perfectly well I'm with someone!"

"I wasn't thinking of a date when I asked! I only asked as a friend-to-friend situation, but then I thought about it a while. I didn't say anything, but apparently you know everything, don't you?"

Stella felt her jaw tense and a burning in her throat. Her eyes prickled with tears. "No, I don't know everything. But you're obviously too indifferent to notice that I talk to people outside of the lab. You're just the type of person who couldn't understand that all of us leave work by ten and talk to people before we get into work!"

Mac's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands clenched together slightly and his shoulders seemed to tense around his ears like a wounded animal.

She almost wanted to apologize to Mac for forcing him into the position, but she felt something in her that made her push harder. "Don't just come to me like a last resort to spend a night with because you couldn't walk into the real world without thinking everything was as easy as blood splatter and gun powder!"

"It wasn't a last resort!" he snarled back at her, and Stella couldn't believe how angry he sounded. His eyebrows narrowed together and his gaze remained right on her until she felt she was half her size. Mac's lips were pressed tight and he breathed heavily. "I was asking you as a friend! I'm sorry if it bothers you that I enjoy working, but that's me! If you're not respecting that, then we don't need to have this conversation!"

Mac stood up, leaving the bar. The door slammed, and Stella couldn't hear it because of the gale of laughter from the next table.

A month later, Stella found herself outside of Mac's apartment door with a bag in hand. She sighed and leaned against the door. The cool wall felt nice against the new tear under her eye and the numerous bruises that marred her skin.

"Mac," she murmured, hearing a slight sob in her voice, but she kept her tone low. "Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac…"

The door opened.

He glanced out of the door, looking around the hall before he saw her. His face seemed to lighten up and start to unfold, letting out a hundred emotions - surprise, shock, joy, sadness, pity, questioning, worry - before he put on another mask and walked into the hall. She noticed that he was still dressed even so late at night.

"I'm stupid, Mac," was all she said. Mac looked at her sadly and put out an arm. She let herself fall into his chest, feeling him take the bag off of her hands and hold her tight with one arm. "I'm so stupid."

"No, you're not, Stella. You're perfect and you're smart."

She shook her head, feeling the light fabric of his shirt. "No I'm not."

"You can protect yourself, Stella, and you showed everyone that. Frankie deserved that -"

She shook her head again. "No." Now she grabbed at his sleeve, trying to find a way to bring herself closer and mold herself into him. "I shouldn't be here."

He held her tight as his answer.

"I'm - I'm not supposed to be here," she whispered. She could handle any amount of Mac at work, but she no longer felt right by seeing him outside of the lab. She had insulted his life too much to try to form herself into it. "I'm gonna -"

"You're going to stay here," Mac whispered into her hair.

Stella couldn't remember feeling so comfortable anywhere. There she was, grabbing onto the man she couldn't even accept a date with, grabbing him tightly as though he were her anchor to a nice dream, and all she could do was cry.

Mac rubbed her back awkwardly and led her inside, sitting her on the couch. Her grip remained on his shirt, and he sat with her.

"I'm so sorry," she told him again, trying to wipe her tears without staining his shirt. She started crying again when she saw the blurry outline of her eyes on the blue fabric.

"Don't apologize for anything." Mac moved his neck to let her lean against him again. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"If I went with you instead of Frankie, I wouldn't - I wouldn't have to be here and I wouldn't have done anything and none of this would have happened." Stella heard her voice ramble on quickly, trying to find a way to say everything about nothing. "I'm sorry for hurting Frankie. I'm sorry for doing all of those stupid things and trusting him. I'm sorry for being such a bitch, Mac. And sorry for… waking you." She took a stronger hold on him, closing her eyes.

"You were never a bitch. You're truthful. We'll just get you in bed, Stella. Sleep off your delusions."

And Stella let the stoic workaholic guide her to his bed. And everything felt calm and balanced for once.


End file.
